


Camp Asgard

by CaptainHackSparrow



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Broken Engagement, Camp Counselor AU, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Disabled Character, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Mentions of joining the military, Past Character Death, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Supernatural Elements, Trans Male Character, Women in the Military
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:54:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainHackSparrow/pseuds/CaptainHackSparrow
Summary: Steve Rogers is looking forward to returning to his job as a swim instructor at Camp Asgard. Things get complicated when bodies start showing up.(Tags will update as story progresses)





	1. Home At Last

**Author's Note:**

> A cheat sheet of all of the characters who work at the camp with their camp names and jobs will be at the bottom of every chapter!
> 
> Please feel free to comment any feedback you have, especially creative criticism!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long off season, Steve finally is able to return to Camp Asgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING(S): mentions of enlisting in the army, mentions of breaking an engagement

_ **Trigger warnings are listed at the beginning of each chapter. Be that as it may, below is a list of every trigger warning that will appear in this story, which will be updated as new chapters are posted.** _

_ **In order of appearance: mentions of enlisting in the army; broken engagement; mentions of disappearances/animal attacks; small amounts of blood; graphic description of a corpse/decomposition; recurring nightmares; neglect of physical health; near death experiences; mentions of family deaths.** _

The second the car rolled to a stop in the campsite’s gravel parking lot, Steve flung open the door and took in a deep inhale. The smell of damp earth and fallen pine needles greeted him like rainfall in the desert. The long drive over had made him wish, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, that he had gotten around to fixing the window crank in his car. At present, only the passenger side window was able to be rolled down. _ That’s what you get for driving such an old piece of junk, _ James had teased as he enjoyed the thick forest air from his side of the car. But now Steve had unlimited access to it and took another deep breath, letting it out in a contented sigh.

“Christ, calm down,” James said with a laugh, getting out of the car himself. Though he teased, Steve knew the forest had a similarly calming effect on him. After months of living in the cramped city they shared an apartment in, they had finally come back for a few days to set up preparations for the summer work season. That was an entire week ago. The week had passed at a tiresome pace for Steve as he counted down the days to return to what he considered his true home: Camp Asgard.

Steve turned to look around the parking lot. “Are we the last ones here?” He identified Tony’s car almost immediately, not through recognition but by the fact that it was always the fanciest, newest model and changed year to year, though never seeming suited for their offroads surroundings. Besides that he recognized Carol’s motorcycle and Clint’s jeep.

James shook his head as he surveyed the lot as well. “No, Proto and Arachnid hit traffic. They said they’ll be late.” 

Entering the dining hall, they saw that they were both right; other than Bruce and Natasha, everyone else had already arrived and started eating dinner. “Buck, Captain, glad to have you,” T’challa greeted them by their camp names with a warm smile. 

“Glad to be back,” Steve said. Starting tomorrow the only gatherings he was likely to see T’challa in were work meetings. The rest of the crew would often spend their time off with each other, whether in smaller groups or all together, but for him the workload never seemed to stop piling up. As the site supervisor it made sense, but Steve did not envy the position. Work didn’t officially start for any of them until the next morning though which gave T’challa the time to relax and socialize. 

Carol was in the middle of telling Scott a story when Steve sat at her table. “Hey Cap,” she greeted him. “I was just telling Ant about how Nick lost an eye last month.” He smiled, remembering the story from when she had called him a week later to complain about how Nick had refused to see a doctor for days before finally caving. He was one of the most stubborn people Steve had ever met, matched only by Carol herself.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Steve said, reaching across the table for the mashed potatoes. Camp Asgard, thanks to the hard work of the cooks, called into question the old stereotype of camp food tasting awful and he had missed the good, home cooked food that was served daily here. Neither he nor James knew anything about cooking, so they primarily relied on take out and prepackaged food.

“So he wears an eye patch all the time now?” Scott asked, to which Carol nodded. “Does he look ridiculous or badass? Probably both,” he guessed. 

“I don’t think he’s capable of looking ridiculous, that guy is way too scary.” Steve turned at the voice to see a young boy he didn’t know. When they made eye contact he said, “Right, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Peter.” He held out his hand with an earnest smile.

“I’m Captain,” Steve said, taking his hand in a firm handshake.

“Oh, we’re using our made up names! Then I’m Spider,” Peter said. “I’m a new cook here. I’m really excited to be working with Scott. I mean, Ant. Everyone I’ve met so far has been super nice, especially Mr. Panther. I thought he wouldn’t be ‘cause he seems so formal and he’s the boss and all.” The kid talked a lot, and fast, but Steve didn’t mind. He’d already decided that he liked him. 

“Anyway,” Peter continued, “I almost didn’t even get to apply for the job because my Aunt’s worried about those hikers in Silver Falls. But I’m really glad I did.”

Steve frowned.“What hikers?”

“You know,” Scott said, pulling his attention back towards him, “those two hikers that went missing in the state park.”

“They found their bodies yesterday morning,” Carol said.

“Yeah,” Peter confirmed, “but they weren’t sure at first. Apparently they were attacked by bears, so it was pretty gruesome. They had to use their dental records.”

“Silver Falls is hours away,” Scott pointed out. “What does it have to do with Camp Asgard?”

Peter shrugged. “Nothing, I don’t think. Aunt May is just a worrier.”

Steve jumped slightly as a hand clasped his shoulder from behind. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” the voice attached to that hand said. 

He turned to grin at Natasha. “Hey, Arachnid. It looks like you won’t be the only spider around this season.” He gestured towards Peter. “This is Spider.”

Natasha nodded at him as a greeting. “It’ll be nice to have another eight-legger around,” she joked with a slight smile.

“You guys get way to into your camp names,” Peter said with a laugh.

“Just wait, kid,” Scott said, “soon you’ll be just as much of a whackjob as the rest of us.”

Natasha met his eyes again. “I’m gonna move my bags into my cabin so I don’t have to worry about it later. Want to come help me, Captain?”

Steve hesitated. Natasha was not the type of person to ask for help very often. She clearly wanted to discuss something in private. It was an easy guess as to what it was. There was no point in trying to delay it- he knew she would find a way to get him alone eventually- so he nodded and followed her out. 

He walked with her as she lead them in the opposite direction of the parking lot, though not seemingly to anywhere in particular. They didn’t speak at first. He focused on the sound of his steps on the dirt path. Even that was different here, the soft scuff distinctly separate in sound from the tap of his sneakers on city sidewalks. 

After a few minutes of walking, they found themselves in front of the mountainside cabins. She stopped walking and Steve stopped beside her, finally looking up at her. She gestured to a bench. “Do you want to sit?” He nodded. She waited until they were both seated to speak again.

“How are things?”

“As in?”

“With her.”

He swallowed. “Peggy.”

His voice came out thickly. She noticed. It was hard not to.

“Yes.”

Her gaze was steady and calculating. Natasha was always hard to read; he never was.

Steve reached into his shirt to pull out the engagement ring strung onto his necklace. “She gave this back. Then she left.”

She was quiet again. And then, “How long ago?”

He heaved a sigh, putting his head in his hands. “Three weeks.”

She didn’t say anything, giving him space to talk when he was ready. It took a few minutes before he was able to fill it.

“I told her she was going to get herself killed. She said that if I tried to stop her from enlisting then I was the one killing her.”

He felt Natasha’s hand on his back. They sat there in silence for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers- "Captain," swim instructor  
James "Bucky" Barnes- "Buck," outdoor skills instructor/tomahawk instructor  
Natasha Romanov- "Arachnid," outdoor skills instructor  
Clint Barton- "Hawk," arts and crafts instructor/archery instructor  
Bruce Banner- "Proto," arts and crafts instructor  
Tony Stark- "Gadget," games instructor  
Carol Danvers- "Marvel," games instructor  
Brunnhilde/Valkyrie- "Valkyrie," riding instructor  
Hope Van Dyne- "Wasp," riding instructor  
Scott Lang- "Ant," head cook  
Peter Parker- "Spider," cook  
Wanda Maximoff- "Witch," nurse  
T'Challa- "Panther," site supervisor


	2. A Night on the Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Carol take a field trip into town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING(S): mentions of disappearances/animal attacks  
Let me know what you think in the comments!

_ MISSING HIKERS SUFFER BEAR ATTACK _

_ The bodies of two hikers reported missing Wednesday have been located in the woods near Copper Falls after three days of searching. Police confirmed rumors early Saturday morning that the cause of death has been ruled as bear attacks. Park rangers advise hikers to carry bear spray if worried about potential attacks, but assure the public that this is an isolated incident. _

_ ‘They were smart not to hike alone,’ says park ranger Phillip Coulsen. ‘It’s rare for bears to attack multiple people. Unfortunately, these two just got unlucky. That’s all this is.’ _

“Hey mister Captain, what are you reading?” 

Steve looked up from his day-old newspaper to see a bright-eyed Peter carrying a large plate of eggs. He couldn’t help but return the smile- it was nice having another morning person around. “Story in the paper about those hikers you were telling me about yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah, the bear thing,” Peter said, sitting beside him. “My Aunt May thought that they were gonna find their bodies but that it was gonna be because they were murdered. I think knowing that it was a bear attack has made things worse with her, ‘cause she’s worrying more than ever.”

“Tell your aunt there’s no reason to worry,” said Steve. “We don’t have bears around here, mostly just mountain lions. And I’ve never heard of one attacking someone at Camp Asgard. They try to avoid us as much as we try to avoid them.”

Their conversation was interrupted as loud thud sounded to his right. Carol stood at the edge of the table, rummaging through the duffle bag she had dropped onto the table. “Hey, so you know how I helped you get that kid out of a tree last summer and you said you owe me one?”

Steve was pretty certain that those weren’t the words he had used, but he wasn’t against helping out a friend. He folded his paper and set it down on the table in front of him. “Sure. What is it exactly that you need help with?”

Carol didn’t answer at first, still digging through the bag. After a few moments she pulled out a battered business card and thrust it at him. “I need you to drive me to the vet. I can’t take Goose there on my bike and technically I’m not legally permitted to drive a car.”

Glossing over that somewhat worrying detail, Steve took the business card from her. _ Lawson Veterinary Clinic _. Under that was a phone number and address. “What happened to Goose?”

“Hell if I know, I came outside this morning and found her bleeding,” Carol said, pushing her hair back from her eyes. “I think she picked a fight with a raccoon or something.”

“Of course she did,” Steve sighed as he gazed mournfully at his freshly brewed cup of coffee. He’d had a restless night, waking up multiple times from dreams he would rather not think about this early in the morning. When he finally woke up at six he saw no point in trying to get any more sleep. He’d been yawning all morning. “Let me just pour this out,” he said, picking up the mug as he stood.

“Hey, no, I’ll take it,” Peter said, surprising him. 

“Really? I wouldn’t take you for the black coffee type,” Steve teased. “More like… I don’t know… straight milk.”

Peter laughed and took the mug from him. “Oh, yeah, that’s totally accurate. Coffee sucks. I’m just using it as a hand warmer.”

Steve chuckled. “Better get used to the cold here,” he warned over his shoulder as he and Carol left the dining hall. 

Why couldn’t he have fixed the window crank in his car before coming back, Steve asked himself. This time it was not to satisfy the deep seated craving for forest air he struggled with on the drive yesterday; the smell of camp had a way of clinging to clothes from the moment you arrived until days after you left, especially the smell of campfire. All he would have to do is pull a bit of his coat’s collar over his nose and take a deep breath in and the lingering scent of woodsmoke would transport him back to the campfire the staff held last night. Steve was tempted to do just that as he drove through the bustling, crowded city streets.

No, the reason Steve wanted so badly to be able to crack open his window was rooted in another of his senses: hearing. If he let in the sounds of the city, maybe they could provide some much-needed distraction from the indignant yowling coming from the pet crate on the passenger side. Goose, as it turned out, was not a fan of traveling in cars. 

“Why do we need to go to this specific vet? Aren’t there closer vets?” 

It was a fairly innocent question, Steve thought, but as Carol set her jaw and clutched the carrying case even tighter, he wished he hadn’t asked. “Because Doctor Lawson is the best,” she said. He didn’t ask her anything else other than directions until they got there.

The trip turned out to be mainly the two of them sitting in silence in the waiting room. Steve had originally tried to make conversation, but Carol seemed too stressed to want to talk so he dropped it. Looking around the waiting room, he saw that someone had left behind a newspaper. 

The front page headline caught Steve’s eye: _ “PICNICKERS MISSING FROM CAMPGROUND.” _ He picked it up. The picture they chose to accompany it was a shot of a sunrise breaking through a line of trees, with a sign in the foreground reading in large, yellow letters, _ “Welcome to Amnapear Lake Campground!” _ A cartoon tree with a large smile waved at him from the sign. The picture, he inferred, was going to be the cheeriest part about this article.

_ A group of four campers has been reported missing, last seen in Amnapear Lake Campground. Missing persons include Chester Yates, 24, Jim Durham, 23, Dewey Mathis, 23, and Robert Mathis, 25. Sophie Gaines, sister to Dewey and Robert Mathis, was the last to _

_ Continued on Page A8 _

Irritated by the interruption, Steve flipped through the paper to find page A8.

_ see them before they went missing. _

_ ‘I saw them yesterday, about 11 o’clock,’ says Gaines. ‘They were going out to the trails to find a good spot for a picnic later. Monica hadn’t woken up yet, so I told them to go on ahead and send someone back if they found someplace good. I waited for a few hours and they never returned. Monica was up by then, and, well, we decided to call the police to see if something had happened. We were really worried. We still are.’ _

_ Monica Stein, 22, has declined our requests for comment. _

_ ‘I know that there are already rumors going around that this case is connected to the Copper Falls disappearance,’ says Officer Nash, head of the investigation. ‘And I know that there are similarities. However, I can assure you that there is no connection between them.’ _

Steve folded the paper and set it aside as the vet came back, resolving to bring it back to show Peter. The vet handed the carrying case to Carol, who had stood up the second the vet had walked out. Steve was relieved to notice that there were no longer screeches coming from inside it.

“We had to subdue her,” the vet said in a tone implying that she was not at all surprised and assumed Carol wasn’t either. “We gave her seven stitches on her left hind leg. The other cuts weren’t deep enough for stitches and should heal in a few days. I know she doesn’t do well with cones, so you’ll just have to watch her closely to make sure she doesn’t pull out the stitches.”

“Thank you, Wendy,” Carol said, letting her shoulders drop out of their tense position against her neck for the first time all morning. 

“Of course, dear. Just bring her back in a week.” Wendy pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek as a goodbye. Steve was curious about their connection, but after their conversation earlier- if you could call it that- he thought it better to leave the subject untouched.

It wasn’t until they were back in the car and pulling out of the parking lot that both their phones chimed. Carol pulled hers out and frowned at the screen. “It’s from Panther. The camp has a new owner and we’re all supposed to meet them in forty-five minutes.”

Steve took a sharp inhale. “I guess we’re going to have to floor it back.”

Carol laughed. “Is this car even capable of ‘flooring it?’ It’s over a million years old.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You sound just like Buck. My car works fine.”

He regretted those words twenty minutes later as they sat on the side of the road waiting for a tow truck to come help them move his broken-down car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheat sheet:
> 
> Steve Rogers- "Captain," swim instructor  
James "Bucky" Barnes- "Buck," outdoor skills instructor/tomahawk instructor  
Natasha Romanov- "Arachnid," outdoor skills instructor  
Clint Barton- "Hawk," arts and crafts instructor/archery instructor  
Bruce Banner- "Proto," arts and crafts instructor  
Tony Stark- "Gadget," games instructor  
Carol Danvers- "Marvel," games instructor  
Brunnhilde/Valkyrie- "Valkyrie," riding instructor  
Hope Van Dyne- "Wasp," riding instructor  
Scott Lang- "Ant," head cook  
Peter Parker- "Spider," cook  
Wanda Maximoff- "Witch," nurse  
T'Challa- "Panther," site supervisor


	3. Goose Goes Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve goes to the trails to find Goose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING(S): mentions of enlisting in the army, mentions of breaking an engagement, small amounts of blood
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!

It was only when his lungs were burning and the steady pounding of his feet on the dirt pathways became a pounding in his feet that Steve slowed down. His breath left his body raggedly as he slowed to a walk. He always went on nightly runs the first week at camp. Once the students arrived his job would oftentimes exhaust him by the end of the day and, save for the rare exception, he would be far too tired to continue them; but it also meant he wouldn’t need them. The kids were a handful and working with them was a workout on its own. Not that he would trade it for anything, although Peggy would often tell him she wished he would.

Steve’s expression soured at the sudden memory. The endorphin high that had carried him nearly all the way to the cabins slipped away the moment his thoughts turned back to her. They had gotten into fights almost nightly in the months leading to their split, most of them concerning their future. Steve wanted to stay at the camp. Peggy wanted to join the army. And now here he was, back at Camp Asgard with little more than a ring and half a heart, while she was god knows where with the other half. 

A bright light coming from behind Steve disturbed his thoughts. He turned towards it, almost glad for the distraction, and squinted at the silhouette in the glow of the doorway to the staff cabin beckoning him over. Once he got closer and his eyes adjusted more to the light he could see that it was Peter.

“Hey,” Peter said, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Why the long face?” He shifted again, craning his neck a bit to look behind Steve.

Steve gave him a long look. Peter glanced back at him but didn’t meet his eyes for long. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to ask me to help you get out of trouble?”

Peter laughed a little too loudly to be convincing. “You’re really funny, Mister Captain, sir! Hey so listen, I heard there’s a cat that lives here, an orange one, and I really like cats. You don’t happen to know where she is? Like, have you seen her recently, or…?” He trailed off at Steve’s knowing smile.

“How long ago did Goose go missing?” Steve asked.

Peter’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he stared at the ground. “Fifteen minutes ago,” he said glumly. “I was out looking but miss Marvel will be back any minute so I had to come back here. I was supposed to be watching her to make sure she didn’t bite at her stitches but she got away when I opened the door to go to the bathroom.”

“Well I haven’t seen her,” Steve said, “but I can do the next best thing and help you look for her if you want to stay here and wait for Marvel.”

Peter’s face lit up immediately. “Thank you so much, mister Captain!”

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes if I don’t find her, less if I do,” He promised before walking back to the trails.

Steve felt his heart rate and breathing eventually slow down to average rates again as he walked through the woods. Before long his watch showed twenty minutes had passed; It was now 12:41. He ought to start the walk back now, he thought, disappointed at the prospect of returning empty-handed. Peter and Marvel would both be upset that the camp’s favorite pet was still missing. That being said, he would be glad to get off his feet for the day. It was a long day that he knew would be followed by an early morning.

Steve ran a hand over his face, frowning when it came away wet. He shone his flashlight on it. It was red with blood. He reached back up and identified the source as a nosebleed. How strange, he thought to himself; he hadn’t had a nosebleed in years. The seasons were changing and he knew that could trigger nosebleeds for some people, but he had never been one of them. If fact, the last time he’d had one he had been socked in the face. Steve smiled at the memory, taking a moment to think back on that and several other fights James had to drag him away from. Aside from his lack of fur, he and Goose really weren’t too different.

Steve’s head shot up at the distinct sound of a branch snapping. Some twenty feet away loomed a human figure. He startled and raised his flashlight towards it, but the moment the light touched it, it vanished. His eye was caught again by a flash of orange in the bushes. Goose emerged, rubbing her head affectionately against his legs. 

Steve glanced back at where the figure had been, but still there was nothing there. He checked his nosebleed, which was already beginning to slow, then rubbed his clean hand against his eyes wearily. He’d been running on empty all day. Yeah, it would feel nice to finally climb into bed. “Come on Goose,” Steve said. Goose trotted after him back to camp. He couldn’t shake the thought of that figure the whole way back.

“What happened to your face?” Carol said the moment he opened the door. 

“Hello Carol,” Steve said. “Yes, it is a lovely evening. You’re welcome for finding your cat.” Said cat pushed past him into the cabin and trotted over to Carol, who picked her up and buried her face in her fur for a moment.

“Thank you Steve,” Carol said. Although Steve had been kidding about the thank you, the words clearly carried weight. He knew Carol cared about Goose, but he had never realized just how deeply she cared about her. He guessed that was another connection he was not supposed to ask the details of so he just nodded.

“Oh hey, I forgot to ask,” Peter said from where he had draped himself over a couch, “where were you two earlier? You totally missed meeting meeting the new camp owner. Which sucks, by the way, because he’s awesome. And way less scary than mister Fury, I think.”

“_ Someone _,” Carol said with a pointed look at Steve, “hasn’t gone car shopping probably since you were born.”

“I’m only, like, five years younger than you guys,” Peter pointed out.

“We broke down on the way back,” Steve said. “We had to get towed to a car shop and wait for them to fix it. Actually, that reminds me.” He left the room to grab the paper he’d tossed on his bed earlier. He returned seconds later and handed it to Peter, then promptly collapsed into an armchair. “I brought this back for you. I thought you might like to know before your aunt starts worrying again.”

Peter took the paper from him and quickly skimmed the article. “Yeah, she’s gonna flip about this, and I kind of don’t blame her- Amnapear is way closer. That’s, like, halfway between here and Copper Falls.”

Goose interrupted with a loud meow, apparently done being held. Carol allowed her to leap down. She gave Peter a calculating look before saying, “So are you going to tell us about the new camp owner?”

Anyone else may have thought the sudden change of subject odd, but Steve recognized the redirection technique from his years of experience working with kids. It had surprised him when he first started out to learn how easily the same tactics they used with children could be used with adults. He was glad Carol had picked up on the worry in Peter’s face and changed the topic, because he was way too tired at this point to notice much of anything.

“Right!” Peter’s features brightened almost instantly. “His name is Thor! I mean, I don’t know what his _ name _ name is because he just introduced himself as Thor. He didn’t stay for long, he went out into the woods. I can’t remember why, but when he was here…”

Steve let his eyelids droop closed as Peter kept talking. He would just rest his eyes here for a minute, he told himself. But before long the sounds of Peter and Carol talking faded away as he drifted off into some well needed rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers- "Captain," swim instructor  
James "Bucky" Barnes- "Buck," outdoor skills instructor/tomahawk instructor  
Natasha Romanov- "Arachnid," outdoor skills instructor  
Clint Barton- "Hawk," arts and crafts instructor/archery instructor  
Bruce Banner- "Proto," arts and crafts instructor  
Tony Stark- "Gadget," games instructor  
Carol Danvers- "Marvel," games instructor  
Brunnhilde/Valkyrie- "Valkyrie," riding instructor  
Hope Van Dyne- "Wasp," riding instructor  
Scott Lang- "Ant," head cook  
Peter Parker- "Spider," cook  
Wanda Maximoff- "Witch," nurse  
T'Challa- "Panther," site supervisor  
Thor- "Thor," camp owner


	4. Rigor Mortis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor talks to someone from his past.  
Steve has an unpleasant experience in the woods.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to AO3 user Cellis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING(S): Graphic description of a corpse/decomposition, mentions of recurring nightmares
> 
> As always, I welcome any and all feedback, especially constructive criticism! If there's something you would like to see more of (or less of) in this story, let me know.

Thor could pinpoint the exact moment Scrapper’s features became guarded, and from this he knew that she had at last noticed him leaning against the gate. He was a bit taken aback by how long it had taken her. The Scrapper he knew was careful, vigilant even. Though, admittedly, the version he knew was from many years ago. She had been so much younger then. Thor was happy to see that she had finally found a place where she felt safe enough to drop this habit. 

Scrapper elected to ignore him, and instead turned her attention back to brushing the horse in front of her. This didn’t surprise Thor, although it had yesterday. He had expected a warmer welcome from her when he met with the staff. He had received this welcome from nearly everyone else. All he got from her was a dirty look and a quick exit. 

“Continuing the silent treatment, then?” Thor called, pushing himself off the gate and walking towards her. 

Scrapper didn’t respond at first. It wasn’t until Thor was standing only a few paces from her that she spoke, still keeping her eyes fixed on the horse in front of her. 

“If you’re looking for a happy reunion, I’d look elsewhere, assuming you want to keep all of your blood inside your body.”

“I didn’t know you worked here when I signed on as camp owner,” Thor said. He didn’t get a response, so he continued.

“You’ve changed,” he said. He hadn’t meant it as an insult- rather the opposite- but from the expression she now wore, she had clearly heard it as one.

“That’s what happens when time passes,” she said. She looked him over with apparent disgust. “At least for the rest of us.”

“I couldn’t just stay away from everything. Obviously you couldn’t either, Scrapper-”

The words had barely left his mouth before he found himself falling backwards. Evidently, Thor had made the mistake of getting to close, and Scrapper had taken the opportunity to kick his legs out from under him. He lay on the ground, struggling to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him. She mounted the horse in front of her. Only once she was atop it did she look downwards at him to say, “My name is Valkyrie now.” With that she rode off.

Thor groaned and pushed himself up. Yes, definitely not the welcome he had expected.

Ancient Egyptians worshiped cats to the point that killing one was a serious criminal offense. Muslim culture also had a long history of holding cats in high esteem. Cats were brought on long voyages as good luck charms before women were even allowed aboard. Sometimes Steve got the feeling that Goose was well aware of these things and very offended that her kind was no longer awarded such privilege. This was one of those times.

Neither broke eye contact. Slowly, Steve extended his hand towards where she had perched herself on the top of a cabinet. "Goose," he said. "May I please have my bagel back?"

Goose bristled, angling her body between him and it. Steve stopped but didn't retract his hand. A tense moment passed. She hissed. He narrowed his eyes. In one swift movement, she picked up the bread in her jaws and leaped onto a table below and then out the window. 

Steve cursed under his breath as he ran towards the door. He grabbed his jacket from the table as he passed, almost as an afterthought. The moment the door was open he was glad he had. The air hit him like a wall of ice. His breath clouded in front of him. He frowned. The seasons had begun to shift lately and the weather was heating up, almost to the point where he didn't need a jacket. 

Out of the corner of his eye Steve saw Goose bolting down a trail that lead into the woods. He hastened to pull on his coat as he ran after, thankful that he had happened to grab one of his thicker winter coats. Steve stumbled over rocks and tree roots as he ran but was able to keep his balance. Further down the trail in front of him Goose reached a fork. As he predicted, she turned left towards Carol’s cabin.

The trail was downhill from there. Steve struggled to run down the slope without gaining so much momentum he would fall. He’d hiked this trail many times before with campers, and every season there was one or two who would disregard his warnings and trip of fall down the hill. At the bottom of the hill the trail opened into a grass clearing. 

Goose had stopped running and was now sitting some twenty feet away. He bent over heaving for a few moments. When he was finally able to manage his breath a bit better, he looked up to see her trotting into the clearing. At the center was a mass of black, too far away to make out immediately. He identified them as crows only when they took off at the sight of Goose approaching to reveal a figure lying in the grass.

Steve took a sharp inhale and sprinted over, thinking over the basic first aid training he had. He stopped short of reaching the figure when a pungent smell overtook him. He pulled his shirt over his nose. When he looked back at the figure what he saw was a corpse.

The yellow-green flesh hung loosely from the body in some places as if it were a size too big and in other places had been ripped away from the body. Part of the intestines were strewn out next to the body. Maggots infested the open abdomen. Some of the exposed muscles- those which hadn’t already been picked apart by scavengers- looked to be starting to liquify as the body decomposed. Had he not had prior experience with cadavers, the sight before him would have been barely recognizable as a human body.

Steve stumbled backwards. Pain sparked in his chest as his heart pounded faster and harder. Before him, Goose walked to where he assumed the body’s feet had once been and dropped the toast she had carried here. Had she known the body was here? Steve almost went so far as to ask the question aloud, and he might have if he had felt that his throat could open up enough for his words to make it out. 

Goose meowed loudly, looking around herself. At her side a shadowy figure materialized. It was the same figure from the woods the night before.

Steve awoke with a start. He scrambled to reach the bedside lamp and flicked on the light. He was still in his bed, still in the room he and some of the other male staff occupied, still safe. His face felt slick with sweat and his shirt clung uncomfortably to his back with the moisture of it. He ran a hand over his face regardless. What the hell was that? 

Steve had not gotten the best sleep lately. His nights were often spent waking up in a cold sweat these days. This was his fourth day back at the camp and with each passing day he felt more exhausted. This morning had passed in a haze of tiredness until he had almost fallen asleep into his lunch, at which point T’challa felt the need to intervene. Steve was on strict orders to get some rest that afternoon. Despite his initial protests, he ultimately caved. Unfortunately it seemed that it didn’t matter if he slept at night or during the day, because both gave him the same result: restless sleep plagued by nightmares.

Steve frowned to himself as he recalled the dream in vivid detail. This was not his average nightmare. He was used to that one after having it every night since Peggy left. This one had come out of nowhere. It had felt so real. He could feel the cold air on his skin and the warmth of the coat. He could smell the rotting corpse. His stomach turned at the memory

Steve stood and opened the curtains, letting the afternoon sun’s light pour into the room. He looked down from the second floor window to the ground below at Tony and James talking and cutting firewood for campfire. He smiled faintly at the sight. Knowing them, Tony had likely turned it into a competition and James had been quick to take up the challenge. He continued watching them, letting the simplicity and routineness of the activity calm his still pounding heart.

After a few minutes, Steve let his gaze wander away from them. Bruce and Wanda were listening to Peter, who was gesturing emphatically. T’challa was sitting alone writing on a clipboard. Goose was disappearing into the woods. No one seemed to notice. 

Steve took advantage of having the room to himself to let out a loud groan. If he ever found out what it was with her and the woods he would consider his life a success. For now all he could do was chase after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took so much research on the history of cats and the stages of decomposition. Was it worth it? Who's to say?
> 
> Cheat sheet:
> 
> Steve Rogers- "Captain," swim instructor  
James "Bucky" Barnes- "Buck," outdoor skills instructor/tomahawk instructor  
Natasha Romanov- "Arachnid," outdoor skills instructor  
Clint Barton- "Hawk," arts and crafts instructor/archery instructor  
Bruce Banner- "Proto," arts and crafts instructor  
Tony Stark- "Gadget," games instructor  
Carol Danvers- "Marvel," games instructor  
Brunnhilde/Valkyrie- "Valkyrie," riding instructor  
Hope Van Dyne- "Wasp," riding instructor  
Scott Lang- "Ant," head cook  
Peter Parker- "Spider," cook  
Wanda Maximoff- "Witch," nurse  
T'Challa- "Panther," site supervisor  
Thor- "Thor," camp owner


	5. Woods Have Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve meets Thor.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to user Batman111893.
> 
> A/N: All chapters have trigger warnings now and will (as necessary) going forward!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING(S): Mentions of recurring nightmares, small amount of blood
> 
> As always, I welcome any and all feedback, especially constructive criticism! If there's something you would like to see more of (or less of) in this story, let me know.

Steve shot off a quick text to Carol letting her know Goose was in the woods again and he was going after her. Or at least it was meant to say that, but with how fast he was rushing it came out, ‘Goode in woods, going afternoon here.’ He reminded himself to ask Tony about turning off auto-suggest and pressed send without correcting the mistakes. Carol could figure it out. 

Steve was only out the door a few moments when a voice from behind stopped him.

“Captain! Will you join me for a moment?”

Steve turned to face T’challa, who was still sitting where he had seen him from the window. With anyone else he could have explained the situation he was in and politely declined, but as T’challa was technically his boss, Steve felt he didn’t have that option. He made his way over, casting a tentative look over his shoulder at the trail Goose had disappeared down moments before. 

“How are you feeling?”

The truth was that Steve had a raging headache and was starting to feel, if possible, even wearier than he had that morning. T’challa was looking at him with such concern that he almost lied to soothe his worry. The two had worked together for years. In fact, the majority of the staff had. T’challa was still very much his boss but they all considered each other family. As a family, they trusted each other implicitly. Besides that, Steve was pretty sure that just by looking at him T’challa could tell that he wasn’t doing well.

“Not great,” Steve said as he took a seat next to him. “But I appreciate the opportunity to rest.” 

A part of Steve wanted to confess to T’challa the strange dream he’d had, but doing so meant acknowledging that the dream was different than the nightmares he had already been suffering from. He had yet to confide in anybody about them, though it was common knowledge that he had them. Steve knew T’challa was too polite to ever inquire about the nightmares, but he still felt reluctant to acknowledge them.

T’challa nodded quietly. "I see. Given that the children won’t be arriving for another week, I’m sure the whole team would understand if you took a few more days off. And even if they do object, I’m in charge and I say you can,” T’challa said with a wry smile.

Steve chuckled. “Thank you, Panther. It means a lot.” he said. 

“I can see you’re in the middle of something, so I won’t keep you from it,” T’challa said, standing up. He looked as if he wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure how to phrase it. After a beat he rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “We’re all here for you, Captain. Everyone here cares about you deeply. Just… Don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“I won’t,” Steve promised.

It was only a couple of seconds after T’challa had taken his leave that Steve remembered Goose. He cursed under his breath and hurried to the trailhead. 

Goose, as the unofficial camp pet, had always been allowed to wander the trails so long as she kept herself out of trouble. However, they were on strict orders from Doctor Lawson to keep a close eye on her due to the stitches. Goose seemed not to have gotten the memo about her house arrest. Or, more likely, she was well aware and actively resistant. Fortunately for him, Goose had a tendency to stick to the path rather than stray into the open forest, which would make finding her a lot easier.

Steve was well into the woods when he heard the voices. Somewhere, not far off, there was yelling. He almost turned around to give whoever was out here some privacy with what was clearly a heated argument. As he stood there deciding whether to do so or continue his search it occurred to him that the voice wasn’t familiar to him. 

Steve frowned to himself. He knew everyone on camp staff well enough to pick out their voices, even those he wasn’t particularly close to. What were strangers doing trespassing in the woods? He crept forward down, unsure as of yet to whether or not he wanted to make his presence known.

Once Steve got close enough he was able to pick up on the second voice. It was calmer, more collected, and as such didn’t carry like the other. 

“Brother, be reasonable,” the second voice chastised. “You can hardly expect to waltz back into her life as you have done, and for everything to return to the way it was.”

“You’re one to talk of reason,” the first voice boomed. “Was it not you who ripped us out of her life to begin with? Was it not you who insisted that to get too close to a Midgardian was a death sentence? And yet here you are, in a forest full of them!”

“You know why I must be here.”

Steve was nearly close enough to the voices to be able to see them. He glanced down at the forest floor to step around anything that would snap or crunch too loudly. As he was looking down, drops of red fell onto the dirt at his feet to form dark splatters. He reached to feel his face. His nose was bleeding again.

“Yes, yes, I know.” The first voice sounded suddenly exhausted. Steve found himself empathizing with them near immediately. “I just don’t see why we can’t confront the issue at the source-”

“Because,” the second voice said, beginning to sound impatient, “this is not a problem you can run at head on like you always do. It’s so much more complicated than that this time. We have a plan. Stick to it.”

At once, the voices halted.

"Someone else is here," the second voice said. "I have to go."

Steve wondered if he should stand his ground or advance. The indecision ate up a few seconds too many. A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out onto the trail a few feet in front of him.

The man did not look at all surprised to find Steve there. He held his hand out towards him. "Good afternoon. Captain, isn't it?" At Steve's puzzled expression, he hastened to add, "I'm Thor, the new camp owner. I've heard much about you."

Steve took his hand to shake. The smile Thor gave him could have read as genuine had it not been for the immense tiredness that was apparent in his expression. It was like looking in a mirror, Steve thought. Something about that shared experience put him at ease around Thor, and he smiled back.

"Same here," Steve said. He wondered if it would be considered rude to ask who Thor had been talking to. He settled on saying, "It's a pleasure to finally meet the man Spider keeps raving about. By the way, did you happen to see an orange cat run by this way?"

"Ah, the camp pet. Duck, is it? No, I'm afraid I haven't," Thor said. "If I may ask, why is there blood on your shirt? Are you alright?"

Steve felt his face. It was bone dry. "That's strange," he said, half to himself. "I was having a nosebleed just a moment ago."

The conversation was interrupted by a notification sounding off from Steve's phone. He pulled it out of his pocket to find a message from Carol that read, 'What are you talking about? Goose is right here.' accompanying it was a picture of Goose curled up in Carol's lap.

Thor, seeing the picture, said, "It looks like your furry friend has been found. I suggest you return to camp- you look as though you're about to fall over."

Truth be told, Steve felt as though he could collapse at any moment, but not from the fatigue he felt. "Yeah," he said as he stared at his phone. "That sounds like a good idea."

Loki watched his brother and the Midgardian retreat down the path before he felt comfortable stepping out of the shadows. He didn't like how close the man- Captain? Midgardian names were so odd- had been able to get before he had noticed his presence. He wasn't meant for this place. It was draining him. He shuddered to think what would become of him should he be stuck here much longer. 

He turned his attention back to the matter at hand. He had seen Captain in the woods before. Had it been days ago, or perhaps even weeks? Time was fuzzy here for him. Captain had now nearly spotted him for a second time. None of the other staff that Thor had spoken of had even seen him once. Captain was too often in the woods, and given his behavior he could clearly become too eager to meddle with things beyond what he should, Loki concluded. He would have to stay wary of him for now. He was more dangerous than he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheat sheet:
> 
> Steve Rogers- "Captain," swim instructor  
James "Bucky" Barnes- "Buck," outdoor skills instructor/tomahawk instructor  
Natasha Romanov- "Arachnid," outdoor skills instructor  
Clint Barton- "Hawk," arts and crafts instructor/archery instructor  
Bruce Banner- "Proto," arts and crafts instructor  
Tony Stark- "Gadget," games instructor  
Carol Danvers- "Marvel," games instructor  
Brunnhilde/Valkyrie- "Valkyrie," riding instructor  
Hope Van Dyne- "Wasp," riding instructor  
Scott Lang- "Ant," head cook  
Peter Parker- "Spider," cook  
Wanda Maximoff- "Witch," nurse  
T'Challa- "Panther," site supervisor  
Thor- "Thor," camp owner


	6. China Doll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve enjoys a favorite camp tradition.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my friend Mars, who beta reads for me when she can, even last minute on Christmas day. Without her support this story would likely not exist. Please drop an F in the chat for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING(S): Neglect of physical health, near death
> 
> SPOILER WARNING: Spoilers for "The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane" by Kate DiCamillo
> 
> Merry Christmas, happy third night of Hannukah, and happy early Kwanza for those who celebrate any of those holidays! Here's an update to celebrate. Thank you all for being so patient while I moved out of my dorm and dealt with finals. I will be working full time soon, but plan to still update somewhat frequently.
> 
> As always, I welcome any and all feedback, especially constructive criticism! If there's something you would like to see more of (or less of) in this story, let me know.

“I know I don’t have to. I still want to,” Steve said. He looked out into the still blue water. It held his gaze. Neither dared break eye contact. He was scarcely one to back down from a challenge, and this was not one of those times. 

“I know, but I still think it’s a bad idea,” James said. 

A breeze rippled the surface where Steve had been staring. He cracked a smile. The water had broken eye contact first. 

“Buck, it’ll be fine,” Steve said, finally looking away from the water and towards James. “I’ve been swimming in this lake practically my whole life. I’m pretty sure it knows me better than I know myself at this point.”

James barked a laugh. “Cap, I swear, do you have to pack bond with every inanimate object in your life? Let it just be a lake. I know you’re the swimming instructor and all, but you don’t see me talking about my tomahawks like that.”

Steve grinned but returned his attention to the lake. “No, that would be weird. You’d scare off the campers.”

James clapped him on the shoulder. “I already know I won’t be able to talk you out of this. I just had to pretend to try so that when you show up at Witch’s office complaining that you nearly drowned, I’ll have plausible deniability.” 

Steve watched James walk down the dock to the shore and disappear back down the trails. He wasn’t concerned about what he was about to do. He knew that if there was any actual risk James wouldn’t have let him off the hook. 

Every year, the campers who were older and had shown themselves to be strong swimmers would be allowed to try to swim across the lake and back. Most only made it across one way. Before the kids arrived Steve liked to swim the lake forward and back himself at least once. Despite him doing this every single year and walking out of it fine, a few staff members had advised him against it earlier that morning. Steve had politely thanked them for their concern but otherwise brushed off the comments. Just because he’d been falling a bit behind lately didn’t mean he couldn’t still carry on like always.

Steve had to believe that he could still carry on. This year especially.

He took a deep breath and jumped in.

The water was on the colder side. As a lake located in the heart of the pacific northwest it would remain somewhat chilly year round. That being said, the summer sun would continue to warm it up as the season progressed and soon it wouldn't be quite as biting.

Steve didn’t mind the cold. He welcomed the way it chilled his skin. Sometimes he felt as though his only purpose was to create memories in other people’s lives. He could feel the cold lake press into him and dig its fingernails into his arms, his legs, his back. It reminded him that he was still there. He was not just a memory.

Spots began to appear in Steve's vision roughly halfway to the other side of the lake. He stopped swimming forward to pull off his goggles. His vision was still fuzzy. He had been so focused on the feeling of the water on his skin that he had completely failed to notice that his muscles had already grown heavy and sore. Then all at once the light faded from Steve's eyes altogether and the lake’s hands which had been holding him afloat pulled him down beneath the surface.

_ “I bet you didn’t think I’d come back. But here I am. I come to save you.” _

_ Too late, thought Edward as Bryce climbed the pole and worked at the wires that were tied around his wrist. I am nothing but a hollow rabbit. Too late, thought Edward as Bryce pulled the nails out of his ears. I am only a doll made of china. _

_ But when the last nail was out and he fell forward into Bryce’s arms, the rabbit felt a rush of relief, and the feeling of relief was followed by one of joy. Perhaps, he thought, it is not too late, after all, for me to be saved. _

Loki looked up from the book at Heron, who was curled up on the forest floor in front of him with her eyes closed. She would have looked to be asleep but her twitching ears betrayed her. “Are you even listening?” She gave him no response.

Loki closed the book and set it down beside him. He couldn’t blame Heron. This was the third- or perhaps the fourth?- time in a row that he’d read it aloud to the cat in the past week or so. Thor had brought it to him after finding it in a bookstore at the nearest town. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘maybe now you’ll have something better to do with your time than pestering the forest animals all day.’ Loki might have argued that he was hardly pestering anybody if he hadn’t been so excited to get his hands on a book again.

The book was about a rabbit doll who was separated from the little girl that owned him and suffered many hardships until they were finally reunited at the end of the book. If Loki were to ask Thor to recount their history as brothers, he no doubt would tell a similar tale to the one between these pages. Subtlety had never been his strong suit. Besides Thor’s sentimentality, the book actually struck Loki as quite charming. 

“You can at least pretend to pay att-”

Loki’s words cut off abruptly as pain bloomed rapidly in his chest. He fought to draw in a shaky breath. A thick fog clouded his head. He knew this feeling. It was the feeling of a death not yet delivered but drawing nearer by the second. He pushed himself up, startling Heron. It took every ounce of effort to take another thin inhale. His eyes searched around him frantically. 

After a moment of all the focus Loki could spare the direction came to him. He stumbled down the trail, letting intuition guide him, until he fell at last to his knees at the edge of the lake. His eyes picked out a figure sinking downwards. The fog and pain dissipated. He took a gasping breath. It took only a moment to shed his coat and dive into the lake.

The sun had barely broken the horizon and without its light Loki was plunged into darkness. Once more he let intuition guide him. He pulled himself through the water to the bottom of the lake. Loki’s fingers reached forward and found a face. His lungs burned for air. He fumbled to find an arm and clutched it tightly. He didn’t release it until they were on the bank.

Loki blinked the water from his stinging eyes and looked over to see whose body it was he had just dragged from the depths of the lake. It was the Captain. He lifted the Captain’s wrist to check for a pulse. He frowned when he felt nothing and reached for his neck. No, it was there, but faint and slowing. He could feel the death fog wafting off of him. It was picking up by the second.

Heron trotted out of the forest and came to crouch beside his form. She meowed twice, once at the Captain and then again at Loki. Both sounded uncertain.

Loki pressed his palms firmly into the Captain’s chest. He closed his eyes and pushed everything out of his mind. He needed complete focus. Slowly, he was able to guide the energy out of him through his hands into the Captain’s body. It trickled through at first and increased its flow until it was a steady stream. His focus was broken at the sound of a cough.

Loki snatched back his hands. The Captain rolled onto his side and continued coughing up water until he was able to heave a shaky breath. With great effort, he pushed himself into a sitting position. He blinked several times before looking up at Loki. 

Seconds passed in tense silence. The Captain’s eyes asked questions that Loki didn’t have the energy to answer. He had been reckless in his desperation to ward off the stench of death and poured too much of his energy into the other man. 

“Ti eídous tou kapetániou den boreí na kolympísei?” Loki muttered to himself as he stood. In English, he told the Captain, “Go to Thor when you have the strength. He’ll know what to do.” Leave the damage control to his brother. He was far too exhausted. He turned to leave.

Loki stopped at a hand on his wrist.

“Please,” the Captain spoke in a raspy whisper. It was all his lungs could handle at the moment. “Who are you?”

_ Look at me, he said to her. His arms and legs jerked. Look at me. You got your wish. I have learned how to love. And it's a terrible thing. I am broken. My heart is broken. Help me. The old woman turned and hobbled away. Come back, thought Edward. Fix me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ti eídous tou kapetániou den boreí na kolympísei?” is Greek for "What kind of a captain can't swim?"
> 
> The book quoted in this chapter is called "The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane"
> 
> Cheat sheet:
> 
> Steve Rogers- "Captain," swim instructor  
James "Bucky" Barnes- "Buck," outdoor skills instructor/tomahawk instructor  
Natasha Romanov- "Arachnid," outdoor skills instructor  
Clint Barton- "Hawk," arts and crafts instructor/archery instructor  
Bruce Banner- "Proto," arts and crafts instructor  
Tony Stark- "Gadget," games instructor  
Carol Danvers- "Marvel," games instructor  
Brunnhilde/Valkyrie- "Valkyrie," riding instructor  
Hope Van Dyne- "Wasp," riding instructor  
Scott Lang- "Ant," head cook  
Peter Parker- "Spider," cook  
Wanda Maximoff- "Witch," nurse  
T'Challa- "Panther," site supervisor  
Thor- "Thor," camp owner


	7. The Woodpecker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tells Steve a fairy tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING(S): small amount of blood
> 
> Happy New Year to all those who observe the passing of years! This chapter was supposed to be out on the first, but I fell behind. Anyway, Loki and Steve are finally interacting only 7 chapters in! Hope y'all enjoy :)
> 
> As always, I welcome any and all feedback, especially constructive criticism! If there's something you would like to see more of (or less of) in this story, let me know.

Steve blinked up at the figure looming over him. The question hung in the air between them.

The man had long black hair which framed an angular face with piercing grey eyes. A scar ran down the center of his forehead towards the bridge of his nose where it bent left and extended over his cheek. His skin was pale, almost ghostly. He had thin lips with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline.

All of these features, though striking, were vastly overshadowed by the long, curved horns extending from his temples. The skin around the base of the horns was scarred as well, as though the horns had pushed through his skin all at once rather than having grown naturally. If it could be called natural.

The man fixed his eyes on Steve with such intensity that it finally occurred to him, belated as it was, to feel afraid. 

When he spoke, it was with a deep, low voice. “Your nose is bleeding.”

Steve raised a shivering hand to his face. His fingers came away coated in a thick layer of red. His face must be covered in it.

“Don’t worry,” the man said. “It will stop soon.”

He glanced down at a light pressure against his side to see Goose rubbing herself against him. “Hey Goose,” he said, though it still came out as little more than a whisper. She purred loudly. Her whole torso rumbled with the vibrations. 

The man sighed. “Is that what they’re calling you these days, gatáki? How undignified.”

Steve’s eyes tracked the man as he passed by him. He picked up a discarded jacket from the ground, then turned and held it out to him. Steve grabbed it quickly and wrapped it around himself. 

The man was still staring at Steve. He met his gaze. A long moment passed. He looked to be weighing his options. Finally, he turned toward the lake and walked to the edge of it.

“Thor is going to have my head if he sees you in this state,” he said, half to himself.

That was the second time he had mentioned Thor, Steve noticed. Why, and for how long, had he been in the woods? From the way he talked about Thor, the two knew each other well. Maybe Thor would have the answers. Yes, he decided wearily, Thor would know. No need to find the answers himself, then. He let his eyes slide shut and his body slumped back to the ground.

Steve’s eyes snapped open moments later at a sudden, sharp pain on his cheek. The man, now crouched beside him, lowered his hand from striking him. “I apologize,” he said. He propped him up into a sitting position. “Can’t have you blacking out again.” He raised a wet cloth to Steve’s face and gently began wiping away the blood.

“Your name,” Steve mumbled.

“Hm? Oh, its… Edward.”

Edward brought up a hand to hold up Steve’s head when it lolled to the side. 

“Goose,” Steve said, though using his voice still made his chest burn worse than it already did. The cat in question perked up where she was sitting next to him and continued to purr like a motor.

“Stop talking,” Edward said softly but with authority. “Focus on my voice. Yes, I know her. I met her some years ago. She stole a sandwich from me. My brother was quite smitten with her and over time I grew fond of her as well. I need to bring you to Thor. I’m going to pick you up now, is that okay?”

It took Steve a moment to register the question. He gave a small nod. Edward set aside the rag and picked Steve up bridal style.

Edward carried Steve into the woods with Goose trailing after them. As he did so, he told him a story.

“Once upon a time, there was a mouse who lived in a forest. The mouse was sad because he was the only animal trapped on the ground. The squirrels could reach the treetops, the birds could take to the sky, and the bears were big enough to climb the tallest hilltops. He looked up at all the trees and the sky and thought, ‘How wonderful it would be if I had wings to soar above the clouds, and then I could be happy.’

Steve drank in Edward’s body heat until soon his shivering stopped. He concentrated on the story and let all thoughts of the pain in his chest float away. Edward’s voice was soft and warm, and Steve wondered how he wasn’t supposed to fall asleep to such a soothing sound.

“A fox saw the mouse looking up at the sky one day and asked him what was wrong. The mouse told him about his desires. The fox laughed and said, ‘Such a silly dream for a mouse, but if you want it that badly I shall help you.’ He took in his mouth two small leaves, which he dipped in sap and affixed to the mouse’s back. ‘You are so small that these leaves are all you will need to fly. If you take a running start, you can take off into the air.’”

“The mouse backed up and ran forward as fast as his legs can carry him- right into a hole. The fox laughed and laughed. ‘Foolish mouse,’ he said. ‘You are too trusting. I’m going hunting, and when I come back I will eat you for desert.’

Every few sentences, Edward would have to duck his head a bit so that his horns wouldn't catch on low hanging boughs. He paused now in his story to step over a large tangle of branches which had fallen into the middle of the path. He took great care in maneuvering Steve through in such a way that his skin wouldn’t scrape across the sticks jutting out from them. When they had made it safely past, he continued the tale.

“Once the fox had left, a curious woodpecker perched on the edge of the hole and looked down at the mouse. She asked what had happened, and he told her. ‘Why don’t you dig your way out?’ she asked.

“‘My leg is broken,’ he said. ‘I can’t dig.’ 

“The woodpecker felt bad for the mouse. Days passed and the fox did not return, but the woodpecker came back every day. She brought him food and sang him songs. Every day the two of them fell a little bit more in love until one day his leg had healed and he could dig his way out of the hole. And the mouse found that he was no longer unhappy with his life on the ground, because when he was with her he already felt like he was flying.”

Steve smiled to himself. What a lovely story. 

Edward glanced down at him. His lips twitched into something that, for a moment, was almost a smile. “My mother used to tell me that story before bed. My brother had little patience for tales that didn’t involve conquest or battles, but I loved that story. She would tell it nearly every night.”

“Tha's lovely,” Steve mumbled.

Edward had gotten a far off look in his eyes. “Yes, it was.”

Steve parted his mouth to speak again, but Edward shushed him lightly. “Do you hear that?” he whispered.

He listened. From somewhere above them came a quiet, thrumming sound. 

“It’s a red breasted sapsucker.” Edward looked down at Steve’s quizzical expression. “You can tell because its drumming is slow and irregular. With other woodpeckers, the sound is quicker and more consistent.”

His eyes flicked back up towards the trees. “Do you see him?”

Steve searched until he was able to pinpoint the sound. He nodded. The two of them shared a still silence as they watched the bird together.

“Must be a sign,” Steve whispered. His voice came out roughly still, but less hoarsely than it had been.

Edward frowned down at him. “Of what?”

“What has happened here?” a voice thundered so loudly that Steve flinched. The bird flew off.

Edward appeared unphased. His expression had smoothed over into one more neutral. “Thor, always a pleasure,” he said dryly. All the warmth had evaporated from his voice. "The Captain was drowning. I… intervened."

Thor looked about ready to blow a fuse. "You know what happens when you intervene, Loki!"

"So much for the alias," Edward muttered to himself. 

Things were too confusing right now for how fuzzy Steve's thoughts were and it made his head pound even more trying to keep up. As the two continued to fight he turned his face into Edward's chest and let his eyes droop closed. The sound of his heartbeat soon lulled him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: “Gatáki” is Greek for “kitten”
> 
> The amount of research I had to do for this chapter on woodpeckers and near drowning symptoms... Smh.
> 
> Cheat sheet:
> 
> Steve Rogers- "Captain," swim instructor  
James "Bucky" Barnes- "Buck," outdoor skills instructor/tomahawk instructor  
Natasha Romanov- "Arachnid," outdoor skills instructor  
Clint Barton- "Hawk," arts and crafts instructor/archery instructor  
Bruce Banner- "Proto," arts and crafts instructor  
Tony Stark- "Gadget," games instructor  
Carol Danvers- "Marvel," games instructor  
Brunnhilde/Valkyrie- "Valkyrie," riding instructor  
Hope Van Dyne- "Wasp," riding instructor  
Scott Lang- "Ant," head cook  
Peter Parker- "Spider," cook  
Wanda Maximoff- "Witch," nurse  
T'Challa- "Panther," site supervisor  
Thor- "Thor," camp owner


	8. Family Ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve faces consequences for his rash actions.  
Valkyrie receives a surprise gift.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my sister. Hi, Cameron! I hope you're enjoying the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING(S): mentions of recurring nightmares, mentions of family deaths
> 
> The latter part of this chapter was inspired by AO3 user Batman111893's request for some Valkyrie and Peter interaction.
> 
> As always, I welcome any and all feedback, especially constructive criticism! If there's something you would like to see more of (or less of) in this story, let me know.

“Possible symptoms of insomnia,” nurse Wanda read aloud from the file in front of her, “include: waking up during the night; waking up too early; daytime tiredness or sleepiness; irritability, depression, or anxiety; difficulty paying attention, focusing on tasks, or remembering; increased errors or accidents…”

“Witch,” Steve cut in. “I appreciate this, I really do, but I don’t think it’s necess-”

“Common causes of chronic insomnia,” she interrupted, “include eating too much in the evening, travel or work schedule, poor sleeping habits, and stress.”

Wanda closed that file and set it on her desk before picking up and opening another. “The long term effects of near drowning include: pneumonia; acute respiratory distress syndrome; brain damage; chemical and fluid imbalances in the body; a permanent vegitative state.” She looked up at Steve expectantly.

“Yeah,” he said after a long pause, dragging a hand over his face. “It was stupid.”

“Astronomically. I’m astounded that your biggest injury from this experience, as far as I can tell, is a mere cold. But I’m not here to lecture you, Captain. That’s Panther’s job.”

“Then, all due respect, but why am I still here?” Steve asked. He made an effort to keep his tone patient even if he wasn’t feeling so himself. 

After he’d fallen asleep in the woods, Thor had carried him back to camp. Wanda determined that he was in fact asleep and not blacked out again. She woke him up to take his temperature and check for water in his lungs. Then, although she wouldn’t permit him to leave, she let him sleep for a very long time. Apparently he’d slept like a log and not at all like the fitful, light sleep he’d become used to. 

Wanda set the file on top of the other and sat back in her chair. She looked to be deciding her words carefully. “I know you’ve been having trouble sleeping lately, Steve. And that you often wake up in the middle of the night screaming.”

Despite the comfort she clearly was attempting to invoke by the familiarity of using his real name over his camp name, Steve felt himself tense. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but Wanda beat him to it. “Did you know that I’m a twin?”

This caught Steve off guard. The two of them had never been close friends, but at Camp Asgard they all looked at each other more as friends and family than just coworkers. As such, he would say he knew her fairly well. “No,” he said, ”I thought you were an only child.”

Wanda nodded. “I don’t talk about him much. We were inseparable growing up. When my parents died when we were ten, we became even more so. And then he died. When we were fifteen. We’d gotten into a car accident and I survived. I had nightmares about it every night for almost a year after.”

Steve frowned. “Wanda, I’m so sorry.”

She waved him off. “It was a long time ago. Over time I stopped having nightmares and, it took a long time, but eventually I was able to stand being in a car again.”

“What got you through it?” Steve asked.

Wanda let out a deep breath. “Time. Connections with others. Therapy.”

He felt himself stiffen. So that’s where this conversation was headed.

“Therapy helped me realize that being so closed off to the rest of the world was only hurting myself, and that allowing myself to be a part of other people’s lives wasn’t a betrayal to my brother,” she said.

Steve’s eyes were fixed on the wall. He said nothing.

“I’ve made you an appointment with a therapist,” Wanda said, grabbing a pen and writing something down. “He’s a friend of mine and I wouldn’t send you to see him if I didn’t trust that he could help you. I want you to go.”

She handed him a slip of paper. On it she’d written a name and time. _ Dr. Steven Strange. Tomorrow, 2:15. _

“What happens if I don’t keep it?” Steve asked, studying the note.

“Panther is requiring you to attend,” Wanda clarified. “Consider it punishment for almost drowning yourself in the lake.”

Steve sighed. “That’s fair,” he admitted. “What’s the address?”

“I’ve already given it to Marvel. She told me the two of you were already carpooling to town to get Goose’s stitches taken out.”

Steve frowned. It had completely slipped his mind that he’d promised Carol a ride down to town. Had it only been a week since Goose injured herself? It felt like it had been so much longer than that. Honestly, with the amount of times she’d slipped past them into the woods, it was a miracle that she hadn’t torn her stitches.

That reminded him- why had Goose been with the man from the woods yesterday? She was normally hostile towards people she didn’t know. His memory of the event was fuzzy at best, but he remembered clearly that Goose had been there. And now that he was questioning things, it was awfully convenient that Thor had showed up when he had. What was the man doing in the woods in the first place?

“Spider, what in the hell are you doing that could make this much of a mess?” 

Peter spun to face Valkyrie, scrunching up his eyebrows. “Aw, no, it was supposed to be a surprise!” 

Valkyrie looked over the kitchen. Ingredients and dishes were strewn about the counter. Amid them lay a handheld hairdryer, which she briefly questioned before moving past it. Sugar and flour coated the stovetop as well as the floor around where Peter stood. Peter himself had flour smudged across his cheek. “What, the chaos?”

“No, I made you cookies!” Peter beamed so proudly that she couldn’t help but crack a smile in response. “I know I’m new here but I noticed you’ve been kind of down lately, like more than you were before, so I asked Ant if he knew what kind of desserts you liked and he said you always got excited when he made snickerdoodles! So he drove me to the store to buy some cinnamon so I could make you some.”

“Thank you, Spider. That’s… I appreciate it,” she said. She took another look around the room, gesturing to the clutter. “Are you always this messy when you cook?”

“Um, dirty dishes yes, ingredients all over the floor no,” he said, sounding almost sheepish. “See, I forgot to take the butter out of the fridge to soften before I started, so it was all hard, right? And so I tried to melt it in the microwave, and it looked like it was melting, so I put it in with the other ingredients. But it turned out that only the bottom part was melted, so most of it was still stiff. And I didn’t want to wait for it to get soft on its own, so I was trying to find a way to melt it inside the bowl…”

Valkyrie interrupted with a loud, barking laugh as she put two and two together. “The hairdryer?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time!” he defended himself, although he was laughing as well. “I forgot that the bowl was full of dry ingredients that hadn’t been mixed in yet, so then suddenly there’s sugar all over the place!”

A timer dinged, signaling them that the cookies were done. Valkyrie helped Peter take them out and transfer them from the cooking sheet to a cooling rack. 

“They have to cool down,” he warned when she reached for them.

“They’re fine,” she brushed him off. She bit into one and nearly spit it out with how hot it was. She swallowed quickly. “Okay, point taken,” she said and put the rest of the cookie back on the rack.

“Hey, where do we keep the brooms? Ant told me but I can’t remember,” he said.

“They’re usually in the dining hall, but right now I think they’re in the supply closet. I’ll just grab you one,” she offered.

Once she was outside, all thoughts of brooms were forgotten at the sight of Steve walking out of the nurse’s office. It was good to see him awake and walking around. The whole camp had heard of his near death experience within the hour. She frowned. Even from a distance, he looked healthier even than he had before he nearly drowned. 

She made a beeline for him.

“Hello, Valkyrie,” Steve greeted her chipperly. The tone was in suspicious contrast to the weary way he had spoken all week.

“Captain,” she greeted. She fell in step next to him. “Feeling better, I take it?”

“Much,” he said. She stopped walking. He stopped too, drawing his eyebrows together in confusion. “Is everything okay?”

Best to be direct. Subtlety wasn’t her strong suit anyway. “What exactly happened in the woods?” 

“I blacked out swimming across the lake,” he answered. “By some miracle, Thor saw it happen and dove in to save me. He performed CPR and then took me back to camp.”

Valkyrie’s eyes narrowed. “I saw Thor bring you back. You were wet. He wasn’t.”

Steve gave a shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you. That’s what happened.”

“Steve,” she started. “Did anything… strange, happen in the woods?”

A flicker of uncertainty passed across his face, but just as quickly as it came it was gone. “No,” he said, his voice resolute. “Nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super excited to get out the next chapter! I think we all can use a little bit of a break from the whump, so the chapter nine will be all fluff, scout's honor. 
> 
> I was considering posting a work that's just research notes from the various things I've researched for this story, which range from the decomposition process to the drumming patterns of different species of woodpeckers. The goal would be that if someone needed to research one of the topics or something similar for their own story, then some of the heavy lifting would be done for them. Would anyone be interested/find that helpful? Let me know below if yes.
> 
> Cheat sheet:
> 
> Steve Rogers- "Captain," swim instructor  
James "Bucky" Barnes- "Buck," outdoor skills instructor/tomahawk instructor  
Natasha Romanov- "Arachnid," outdoor skills instructor  
Clint Barton- "Hawk," arts and crafts instructor/archery instructor  
Bruce Banner- "Proto," arts and crafts instructor  
Tony Stark- "Gadget," games instructor  
Carol Danvers- "Marvel," games instructor  
Brunnhilde/Valkyrie- "Valkyrie," riding instructor  
Hope Van Dyne- "Wasp," riding instructor  
Scott Lang- "Ant," head cook  
Peter Parker- "Spider," cook  
Wanda Maximoff- "Witch," nurse  
T'Challa- "Panther," site supervisor  
Thor- "Thor," camp owner


	9. In the Woods Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve enjoys campfire with his friends.
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to AO3 users DangerousGirl and ariadne_odair.
> 
> I updated the tags, but just so everyone is up to date, this story will have at least one transgender character. I'm putting this here because I don't want to hear any complaints about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first chapter of this story that doesn't require a trigger warning! As promised, all fluff. The word count kind of got away from me on this one so it's a bit longer than normal.
> 
> As always, I welcome any and all feedback, especially constructive criticism (that DOESN'T have to do with people being transgender)! If there's something you would like to see more of (or less of) in this story, let me know.

Valkyrie left Steve, mentioning something about a burnt tongue and a broom. He felt badly about lying to her but didn’t see another option. Until he knew what exactly was going on with Thor and the man from the woods he intended to proceed with caution; which meant he would have to play his cards close to his chest for now. He wondered how much Valkyrie knew about the situation, although not enough to pursue her as she left. 

Steve let out a startled “Ah!” as someone gripped him tightly around the neck from behind. When he felt knuckles digging into his scalp, he knew at once that it was James. He and Steve used to roughhouse all the time when they were younger and occasionally still slipped back into those tendencies. It could be fun at times, but Steve wasn’t a fan of noogies.

“Cut it out, Buck!” he yelped, trying to wrestle himself out of the headlock.

James kept on for a few seconds but then released his hold on him. “That’s for trying to drown yourself in the lake, punk!”

“Funny,” Steve groused, rubbing his sore scalp as he turned to face him, “you don’t seem too concerned about my physical wellbeing.”

“I stopped in the check on you while you were asleep,” James said. “Witch gave me the rundown. Are you feeling up to campfire tonight?"

As per the camp tradition, they came together for campfire every night after dinner. It was a bit of a hike to get to the fire pit, and more often than not it was raining by the time they finished dinner. The rain turned the trails to mud which only added to the work it took to get up there. This was especially true for James, whose prosthetic leg sometimes caused him to slip if he didn’t have his walking cane on hand. 

Steve remembered Peter’s reaction the first night back: _ We’re having a campfire? In this weather? _James laughed so hard he later swore he’d nearly pulled a muscle. Scott explained to Peter that the fire pit was underneath a pavilion, so they rarely let weather stop them from having a campfire. In all fairness, it had been raining buckets outside, and some of them- James and Scott included- had spent the next three days sneezing.

Steve had missed the past few campfires catching up on sleep. Today however he was feeling more energized than he had since-

Since Peggy left.

Steve felt all the cheerfulness dissipate from his mood at the reminder. Almost subconsciously, he reached up to touch the ring through the fabric of his shirt. Part of him wanted to shut himself in his room for the foreseeable future. At the same time, a larger part of him missed his friends. 

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he promised.

James grinned and slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Come on, man, I’m starving. Let’s go get something to eat.”

Halfway to the dining hall, Steve’s eyes landed on a Jeep pulling into the parking lot as they passed it. He watched as Thor stepped out of it. 

“You go on ahead,” he told James. “I’ll catch up in a moment.”

Thor was surprised to see him.

“Captain, wonderful to see you amongst the living!” he exclaimed, clapping Steve on the back. “You gave me quite a scare this morning.”

“That’s actually what I wanted to speak with you about,” Steve said.

“Ah, yes, I thought you might,” Thor said, although his eyebrows drew together in such a way that Steve got the impression he’d rather talk about almost anything else. “Come, we’ll discuss.”

He gestured for Steve to follow him and the two traveled a short distance down the path running alongside the length of the dining hall. The location wasn’t totally secluded, but still awarded them a bit of privacy.

“I trust you have questions,” Thor said.

“Yes,” Steve said. “Who was that man? Why did he save me? He acted like he knew you, did you know he was there?”

Thor held up a hand to stop him, some mirth in his eyes despite his otherwise fatigued expression. “One question at a time,” he said. “First, who was he? His name is Loki. He is a man who finds joy in chaos, although he is sworn to be on his best behavior whilst he is here. He has my trust in this regard.”

“So you did know he was here,” Steve said. “Does Panther know?”

“Panther knows exactly as much as is necessary for the moment,” Thor said carefully. “Concealing certain uses of the land from public knowledge is within my right as the landowner so long as it doesn’t interfere with the camp, break any laws, or endanger the safety of anyone here.”

Steve frowned. “With all due respect sir, I fail to see how his presence here won’t interfere with the camp. I believe his… _ unusual _ appearance might frighten the children.” He took care that his word choice when describing Loki remain polite. He didn’t know Thor very well at all and wanted to avoid upsetting or offending him. That being said he still felt protective of the campers.

“Loki is not permitted to get too close to the camp,” Thor clarified. “The stunt he pulled today was an outlier. Although, I suppose, a necessary one. It was fortunate he was nearby at the time of the incident.”

“Yes, that was quite a miracle,” Steve agreed warily. “But that still begs the question, why was he at the lake to begin with?”

“I know not the specifics of his abilities, but I believe he could sense danger. So, in short, he was there because of you,” he said. At the sight of Steve’s bewildered expression, he added, “If you’d like more information on why or how he saved you, I’m afraid you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“Where can I find him?”

“You can’t,” he said. “He’s very adept at not being found when he doesn’t want to be. He’ll find you when he wants to talk.”

“You seem to know a lot about the guy,” Steve said.

“Of course I do,” Thor said. “He’s my brother.” Seeming to believe the conversation to have ended, he clapped Steve on the back again and left.

As luck would have it, Steve didn’t have to wait long to speak to Loki; but at the present moment he felt even more confused than he had before. He resolved to put this aside until he could mull it over by himself later. In the meantime, he intended to enjoy a nice dinner and campfire with his friends. 

Once the kids arrived, which would be in a few days, they would continue to hold nightly campfires. Those nights would be filled with camp songs and cabin skits. These on the other hand were filled with stories. The stories in question often weren’t new as many of them had worked there for so long that they’d already told all the stories they knew.

The stories ranged from fables to tales of real life based on who was telling them. For example, Wanda, Bucky, and Scott usually told ghost stories while Carol liked to spin tales of heroes vanquishing evil foes. Tony would tell outlandish, but knowing him likely true, stories of lavish parties he’d hosted or attended. Sometimes Bruce, who worked as an elementary school teacher during the school season, would tell shortened versions of stories he used in his lesson plans. It was rare but every so often Valkyrie would volunteer a story about her life back when she lived on the streets. Lately many of them would spend the night telling Peter, the only newcomer this year, stories of things that had happened at the camp in past years.

After they had tired of stories for the night, they sang songs. They avoided camp songs as they would certainly grow sick of most of them in the coming weeks. Mostly they sang country songs together, and those who didn’t know the words were content to listen. To accompany the singing Tony and Bucky played their guitars, Steve played his banjo, Scott played his fiddle, and Clint played his harmonica.

“Now that Captain has finally decided to join us again,” Carol teased once the storytelling section of the evening had drawn to a close, “Arachnid and I have a little song we want to share with him.”

Steve glanced over at James. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

James’s eyes shone with mischief as he balanced his guitar on his lap, ready to accompany them. “Whatever gives you that impression?”

He played the opening chords to a song Steve could easily recognize but couldn’t quite place. 

Natasha began to sing the first few lines. “My friends from high school married their high school boyfriends, moved into houses in the same zip code where their parents lived.”

Steve couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of him as he recognized the song almost immediately. It was an old Dixie Chicks song that he and Carol used to jam out to back in high school. It was old then, too. The song was about moving on from a hardship at your own pace. 

When the chorus came around the two sang it together, then Carol took over the next verse. “It’s been two long years now since the top of the world came crashing down, and I’m getting it back on the road now, but I’m taking the long way around.”

This time Steve joined in and sang the chorus with them. By the time the last chorus ended, everyone was singing- even Tony, who tended to sit out the country singalongs. 

“Okay if we’re singing songs now, I vote we sing Country Roads,” Peter said after they’d finished.

“You say that every night,” pointed out Hope.

“It’s an every night kind of song!” Peter insisted. “Also you guys usually say no.”

The rest of the group laughed. “I second Spider’s vote,” said Valkyrie once the laughter had died down a bit.

“Country Roads it is,” Scott said decisively and began to play it.

Steve sang along with the rest, but couldn’t fully invest in the moment like he wanted to. There was something nagging at the back of his mind. It was almost as though he could feel a presence nearby. He could feel himself being drawn towards it. His eyes searched the darkened spaces between trees. 

“You okay?” James asked from beside him. The song had ended. He’d been staring out into the forest for the remainder of it.

“Yeah,” Steve said distantly. “Um, I’m just gonna use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

James didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded. “Okay. Be safe.”

“I will,” Steve promised, and meant it this time.

The trail led downhill a bit then hooked right. He didn’t have to walk far. Around the bend Loki sat on a tree stump with Goose perched on his shoulder.

Steve’s hazy memories of the man did nothing to prepare him for their next meeting. Back then the fog clouding his thoughts shielded him from the fear that now threatened to overtake him. Loki’s long, tangled hair made him look wild despite the calm resting position he was in. His horns gleamed in the moonlight, longer and bigger than Steve remembered them to be. The jagged scar that split Loki’s face into two parts only added to the sense of danger.

More jarring than these corporeal details was that there was something overtly otherworldly about Loki. He couldn’t pin down what it was, but it was there, slipping through his fingers like smoke. It was perhaps this that frightened him the most.

“Captain,” Loki greeted. “You asked to see me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the tone of this story is all over the place, so I'm going to try to get it back on track. That being said, I'm quite pleased with how this chapter turned out.
> 
> Cheat sheet:
> 
> Steve Rogers- "Captain," swim instructor  
James "Bucky" Barnes- "Buck," outdoor skills instructor/tomahawk instructor  
Natasha Romanov- "Arachnid," outdoor skills instructor  
Clint Barton- "Hawk," arts and crafts instructor/archery instructor  
Bruce Banner- "Proto," arts and crafts instructor  
Tony Stark- "Gadget," games instructor  
Carol Danvers- "Marvel," games instructor  
Brunnhilde/Valkyrie- "Valkyrie," riding instructor  
Hope Van Dyne- "Wasp," riding instructor  
Scott Lang- "Ant," head cook  
Peter Parker- "Spider," cook  
Wanda Maximoff- "Witch," nurse  
T'Challa- "Panther," site supervisor  
Thor- "Thor," camp owner


	10. Civil Questions, Civil Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki provides Steve with some answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING(S): graphic description of a stomach injury
> 
> As always, I welcome any and all feedback, especially constructive criticism! If there's something you would like to see more of (or less of) in this story, let me know.

Steve looked at Loki for a long moment. “Yes,” he said finally. “Thor said you could provide me with some answers.” 

“I’m sure he did,” Loki said, “but I’m afraid it will depend on the question.”

Loki had helped him before, if his memory could be counted on as a reliable witness, but he still didn’t know why. As far as Steve knew there was nothing stopping him from endangering the very life he had earlier saved. Thor had after all described him as ‘a man who finds joy in chaos.’

Steve took time to collect his thoughts. At long last he decided on, “Why did you save me?”

“Corpses smell bad,” Loki said as if this were the most obvious answer there was. 

“Would you do it again?” Steve asked.

Loki pondered this. “I’m not sure.”

Steve’s eyes flicked back up to his horns. It was brief but noticeable.

_ When Steve was in school, he would sometimes stop by the hospital where his mom worked as an emergency room nurse. On one such occasion he came by to drop off some lunch for her. He sweet talked the receptionist into letting him into the back area to deliver it- not a difficult task given how well known he was by her coworkers.  _

_ “Shouldn’t you be in school?” asked his mom’s coworker when he entered the break room. _

_ Steve smiled. “It’s Saturday,” he said and put the lunchbag into the fridge. _

_ “Is it already?” She rubbed her eyes tiredly.  _

_ “If you see my mom, please tell her I dropped off some food,” he said. _

_ He opened the door but stopped in the doorway to look both ways. He had learned a long time ago that it was best to steer clear of people carrying stretchers to avoid getting in the way. He was glad he remembered to stop when a stretcher came around the corner.  _

_ The man on the stretcher was a big, broad-shouldered lumberjack type. He was writhing and wailing as the doctors rushed him past. His shirt was dark with blood and clung to his form. Both his clothes and his skin had been torn open at the stomach. Steve would later find out that the man had been run through by a buck’s antlers.  _

_ During dinner he had asked his mom if she knew what the man had done to provoke the buck. _

_ “Nothing,” his mom said. “Sometimes they just attack.” _

As this memory ran through Steve’s mind, he found himself unable to concentrate on the questions he had wanted to ask. Silence stretched between them.

“That’s not very reassuring,” Steve said at last. His voice came out quieter than he meant for it to.

“I am not here to reassure you, Captain,” Loki said. 

“Then why are you here?” 

Loki didn’t answer him.

Steve was distantly aware of the sounds of the forest around them- the call of birds, the rustling leaves, the sound of his friends laughing and singing not far off. He was still close enough to them that they could hear him if he screamed but not close enough, he wagered, to get to him in time if Loki’s favor turned.

“You are afraid of me,” Loki said. It wasn’t a question.

Steve stood a few paces uptrail from where Loki sat. If push came to shove, he would have three options for escape: back the way he came, further down the trail, or off the trail into the trees.

“Yes,” Steve said. The thought occurred to him that Loki may be able to smell his fear. The air was probably thick with it. He supposed it didn’t matter either way.

“Why does Goose trust you?”

The cat in question had leapt from Loki’s shoulder to curl up on the ground as soon as they started talking and now looked to be sound asleep.

Loki looked at him blankly. “Goose?”

“She doesn’t like strangers,” Steve said, “and yet she seems to have no problem with you.”

Option one: back the way he came. The trail was steep and wet. He would almost certainly slip and fall. Loki would catch him and he would die.

Understanding passed over Loki’s features. “Ah, yes, you mean Heron. She and I are far from strangers. We’ve discussed this already.”

Steve frowned. “When?”

“This morning,” he said. “Although I suppose you wouldn’t remember. Nearly dying has that effect on people. As does energy sharing.”

“Energy sharing? What are you talking about?”

Loki pushed an audible sigh through his nose. “Exactly how much did Thor explain to you?”

Steve ran through their conversation in his mind. “Almost nothing. He mentioned something about you having certain ‘abilities.’”

He almost looked humoured. “You sound skeptical, Captain.”

“I don’t believe in…” The sentence had started out with certainty and trailed off as he grasped for a word that would fit.

Option two: further down the trail. He would have to cross in front of Loki. Loki would intercept him and he would die.

“Ghosts?”

“Is that what you’re claiming to be?”

The slight playfulness that could have been on Loki’s face vanished and his eyes blazed with a spark of anger. Steve was painfully aware of the tightness in his chest. “I’m not ‘claiming’ anything.” Despite his obvious upset his voice remained calm and cold. 

“Are you someone I should be afraid of?”

“Fear is subjective,” he said. 

Steve swallowed thickly. He was distantly aware that if he were able to collect himself in this moment he may have been irritated by Loki’s elusiveness.

“You mean to ask if I am going to hurt you,” Loki said. It wasn’t a question. “Are you going to give me reason to?”

Option three: off the trail into the trees. It was dark and he knew the trails far better than the forest. Loki, however, lived in these trees and could likely navigate through them well. Loki would catch him and he would die.

No matter how Steve looked at it, he would be at a disadvantage if he tried to escape.

Steve pulled a thin breath in through his nose. “I don’t know.”

Loki nodded in acknowledgement of this. The anger had passed from his features. It didn’t calm Steve.

“Energy sharing,” Steve said. 

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Loki said. “Your energy was fading. I gave you some of mine. When the time comes I will take it back.”

“When will the time come?” 

“When your own energy replenishes itself I will remove mine,” Loki said. “Likely in small increments as yours naturally increases. Your body reacted surprisingly well to receiving all of what I shared in one burst, but draining it from you all at once could still have consequences.”

“Okay,” Steve said. His mind struggled to process the information.

“In the meantime, there may be side effects of you sharing my energy. They could be quite uncomfortable. It is in your best interest to keep them to yourself.”

“What kind of side effects?” Steve asked.

“I believe I will leave you to discover those on your own.” A faint smile graced his lips. “Consider the inconvenience to be your repayment for the inconvenience that you have caused me.”

Steve hesitated to ask his next question. “And the repayment for saving me?”

Loki considered. “That will come in due time. I do, however, have one requirement.”

“Yes?”

“Learn to swim before you attempt to traverse a lake.”

Steve opened his mouth but was stopped at the sound of someone coming down the trail behind him. 

James came around the turn. Steve’s head whipped back. Loki and Goose were gone.

“Hey, there you are,” James said. “We were starting to worry. You were gone for a while.”

Had he been? “Just on my way back,” Steve said.

Carol laughed when she saw him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said.

Steve spent the remainder of the night trying to convince himself that he hadn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Um, yeah, so I'm not dead. Sorry for being gone for a bit over two months. Here are the highlights: I got a boyfriend, have a job now, and started making tik toks. What's been new with you guys?


End file.
